


the lament of an indoor lesbian

by cluelesspaladin



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Background mentions of Hance, But she is a supportive BFF, F/F, Fluff, Humor, Inner narration, Marathon AU?, Pidge don't run, Runner AU, So she runs to make Keith feel better, Which makes Pidge lesbian brain go brrr, Who also runs, allura is a goddess, modern day AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-04
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-08 19:28:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,562
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27381952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cluelesspaladin/pseuds/cluelesspaladin
Summary: It’s 4am, there is not nearly enough coffee in the world to compensate for the ungodly hour, and Katie ‘Pidge’ Holt has somehow been brainwashed into thinking running is an acceptable past-time.It’s not. It’s really not.It doesn’t matter if she gets to see the sun rise or be out in public wearing what barely constitutes as active wear in her three times too large sweatpants and a hoody she stole from Matt like, two years ago and never gave back. Hell, it doesn’t even matter that she gets to be first in line at the ridiculously priced Starbucks three blocks from home when it opens.Running is overrated. But- she does love Keith, and she’s trying to be supportive of his efforts to get in shape enough to run that stupid marathon in a couple of months in an attempt to win a bet with Lance. Thus, her current situation.
Relationships: Allura/Pidge, Allura/Pidge | Katie Holt
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	the lament of an indoor lesbian

**Author's Note:**

> This was for my own enjoyment and part stress relief.

It’s 4 am, there is not nearly enough coffee in the world to compensate for the ungodly hour, and Katie ‘Pidge’ Holt has somehow been brainwashed into thinking running is an acceptable past-time.

It’s not.

It’s really not.

It doesn’t matter if she gets to see the sun rise or be out in public wearing what barely constitutes as active wear in her three times too large sweatpants and a hoody she stole from Matt like, two years ago and never gave back. _Hell_ , it doesn’t even matter that she gets to be first in line at the ridiculously priced Starbucks three blocks from home when it _opens_.

Running is overrated.

_But-_ she does love Keith, and she’s trying to be supportive of his efforts to get in shape enough to run that stupid marathon in a couple of months in an attempt to win a bet with Lance. (Hunk tries to rein in his fiancée, but really there’s only so much he can do once Lance and Keith decide they’re ready to go head to head.)

Thus, her current situation.

Granted, it isn’t like she’s completely out of shape; she does run occasionally. Usually when she’s feeling particularly stupid or in need of some kind of inspiration from one of her many, _many_ coding projects. Funnily enough, she’s been trying to perfect a prosthetic design with Hunk for the last six months and that, in part, was the reason Keith and Lance got the stupid idea to do this in the first place.

How, she had no damn idea; but Pidge was going to make sure she absolutely didn’t make the same mistake twice.

Her watch pings with a notification that she’s passed the 2km mark. In her headphones, the cheerful robotic voice informs her that she has one more to go before she can start stretching. That moment can’t come soon enough, in her opinion.

She’s just beginning to wind down when a blur of silver hair and legs that stretch for miles flies past her in a flurry of black and teal exercise wear. _Genuine_ active wear, to boot.

All her oxygen deprived brain can think about in the moment is-

_Hot damn I am gay._

-

Pidge doesn’t see silver haired woman again until she damn near runs into her at Starbucks the next day. She’s just finished her 3km misery run and is cradling her stupidly expensive expresso in her hands like she’s expecting someone to swoop out of nowhere and pry it from her cold, dead hands as she hip checks the door open.

Only to squeak as she is greeted with boobs in her face- because apparently being five foot nothing is actually something to be proud of in the moment when compared to the seemingly six-foot something goddess who is blinking back at her in startled surprise as well.

“Sorry.” Pidge manages to choke out, feeling like her entire face is on fire as she moves out of the way for the woman. Up close, she realizes the silver hair is dyed, but it looks natural against the smooth dark skin and bright blue eyes.

_What rock did she emerge from and how do I find more of it?_ She couldn’t help but think, feeling more than a little self conscious as she hauls ass out of the vicinity.

Later that afternoon, she’s interrupted by a call from Keith, who guesses _way_ more than he should be able to considering he lives an hour out of the city and hasn’t visited her in like, a month. Needless to say, he finds her situation _absolutely_ hilarious, and probably for good reason. She hasn’t been in an actual relationship since high school, if it could have even been called that.

(Pidge refuses to call friends with benefits anything than what it is, and she will gladly take that to her _grave_ if need be.)

“So you’re already smitten with a complete stranger?” he asks nonchalantly, grin evident in his tone.

“I have not.” She grouches, digging her screwdriver just slightly more aggressively into the socket she’s trying to put together. “It’s not like I’ll ever see her again.”

“It’s a small world.” He teases.

“Not that small.” She snorts. “Do you know how much coffee I have to ingest just to pretend to be a human being after running every morning?”

Keith, bless his heart, knows when to leave well enough alone when she gets like this and takes the topic of conversation change in stride. Laughter greets her over the line as he imagines it.

“I have been spending money at Starbucks for coffee that isn’t worth it. But since it’s the only place in five blocks that has the right size, I have to fork over the cash.” She complains. “You’d better place better than Lance when you two run this stupid marathon or you’re officially uninvited for Christmas _and_ I’ll write you out of my will.”

He knows it isn’t an empty threat, either; Katie can be tenacious at the best of times and the entire Holt clan knows that Katie’s been running to support him. Granted, there would be hilarity involved, but ultimately the Christmas invite _would_ be put in effect.

It’s what keeps his lips sealed as they wrap up their conversation and bid one another goodbye.

-

Of course, life- and Keith- have to prove Pidge wrong.

The goddess of a woman she’d seen at Starbucks shows up several more mornings while she’s panting through her daily ritual, headphones blasting some kind of techno pop song Matt had downloaded a playlist for in order to try and motivate her. The first time, she isn’t spared a glance; absolutely fine by her, considering she’d probably trip over nothing and fall flat on her face. Not a good look even if she tried.

The problem was that this goddess appeared to have taken a liking to the same Starbucks Pidge frequented, and therein lay the problem.

It was one thing to see her at a distance and under the cover of it being ass o’clock in the morning. It was another to run into her again as she nursed her expresso at the window seat and tried to think about what exactly she was going to do with the rest of her day.

“Good morning.”

The accented tone was like angels singing gospel as Pidge squawked something that sounded like it might have been the English language as the goddess floated by, a warm smile on her features that made her glow from within. Her order was clasped in her long fingers, steam rising from the chai something or other she had in the other. A thin sheen of sweat covered her forehead, but it did nothing to diminish her beauty.

The second she left, Pidge buried her face in her hands and groaned.

She was done for.

-

Allura held great distaste in adjusting to a new city; always had, for that matter. But a change had been exactly what she had wanted and needed, so there wasn’t much to be done for it now. It certainly made things more interesting for the first couple of weeks- adjusting to a new environment meant, inevitably, that she would get lost or mislead once or twice as she sorted out just how the layout of the bloody city worked.

Which meant that she as out and about much earlier in the day in order to get as much mapping as she possibly could in before she needed to get dressed and get ready to go to work at the gallery near her new apartment. A curator position had opened and she’d leapt at the chance at the time but now she wasn’t entirely sure she’d made the right decision.

Of course, thinking these things at 5 am certainly didn’t help matters.

She didn’t pass too many people, and those who were out did not look as though they desired to be in the least. Off to work more than out for a jaunt.

Which was why, as she turned a corner in a park, she was surprised to see someone out running.

Back home, she’d had Coran as her running partner, and she deeply missed having the company. Coran had been a breath of fresh air, constantly providing her the motivation she needed some mornings to complete her fitness goals.

_Would they be interested in a running group in the area?_ She thought to herself, noting that the heavily bundled figure was a petite woman dressed in some of the baggiest clothes she’d ever laid eyes on.

Hm. Perhaps not.

She didn’t stop or ask the other woman any questions- probably for the best; the freckled face she caught a glimpse of looked like she was ready to be doing anything else _but_ running at the crack of dawn.

To be fair, there were some mornings where Allura felt much the same. But that was why she usually treated herself to a treat from cafés on her way home.

The closest one happened to be a Starbucks- not her absolute favorite choice, but it was better than nothing as she strolled in, shaking her hair out of her face and ordering the first thing that had chai in it. It was refreshing, being able to spend her time without any of the constrictions she’d had to deal with before.

Of course, her new routine certainly didn’t account for running into the tiny runner she’d seen before, freckled features the most notable thing Allura could pick out amongst the folds of fabric and tousled copper hair.

From there, it sort of snowballed. Allura could have ignored it if it were the only time she’d run into the smaller woman, but it wasn’t. There was something in the air that seemed rather intent on them continuing to run into another- figuratively, of course, though there were a handful of close calls- in their café of choice.

She found herself charmed in spite of herself by the small woman, curious to know more but just shy enough that she didn’t want to interrupt the daily comings and goings of the other person.

Well, until the Incident.

-

Pidge knew that there was only so long she could go on with this running nonsense before something went terribly wrong, and of course it happens the day she’s gone and forgotten her stupid freaking phone at home.

Unlike her usual self, she misses the pothole right in front of her until she’s gone and stepped in it, ankle twisting with a pop that makes her stomach churn before the ground greets her hands and pain ricochets up her wrists.

Fantastic.

The slew of expletive that leaves her at the impact probably would have made a sailor blush, but she barely finds it in herself to care as she rolls carefully out of the hole. If she had to guess, she’d say she for sure sprained her wrist. Her ankle is a lesser known, but judging by the blinding pain and the tears her eyes have decided are going to happen, it’s either fractured or outright broken.

And she’s lying in the middle of a park.

At… judge shy of five in the morning.

Without her phone.

“I’m going to kill Keith for this.” She mutters darkly to herself, managing to rearrange herself into something of a sitting position, swiping her eyes to clear them.

Matt’s supposed to show up for lunch today, so she knows that someone will eventually figure out that she’s not where she’s supposed to be, but who even knew when that would be? The park isn’t usually more populated until the later part of the day, and-

Wait.

Oh lord, of course it’s the goddess.

Pidge tries not to let her complete embarrassment show as she waves the silver haired woman down, wincing as she shifts the exact wrong way and her ankle throbs.

“Oh my word, are you alright?” the goddess gasps, hair rolling around her shoulders as she immediately crouches, hands hovering over Pidge’s ankle like she isn’t entirely sure how to help.

_Why. Is. She. So. Pretty?_ Pidge’s brain decides to scream as she shakes her head.

“I didn’t even notice the stupid pothole until it was too late.” She explains shortly. “I don’t have my phone on me- are you able to call my brother to come take me to the Emerg?”

“I don’t have my cell on me.” the goddess says apologetically. “My apartment isn’t too far from here- if you think we can make it that far I can take you?”

“Considering the other option is waiting and letting my idiot brother send out a search party, I think I’m going to have to say yes.” Pidge says, yipping as lean, strong arms are suddenly looping around her torso and legs and _lifting_.

_A bridal carry?????_ Her inner voice is shrieking, even as Pidge flushes from her head to her toes.

“So…” she says instead, voice only slightly wobbly. “You come here often?”

The goddess huffs out a laugh, lips pulling back to reveal white teeth.

“I’m actually new to the area.” She explains, her distinctly British accent doing things to Pidge. “I’ve been running to try and learn the area.”

“You do this _willingly?_ ” Pidge dares ask, horrified.

“It’s a hobby.” The goddess shrugs before her brows furrow. “If you aren’t doing it for enjoyment, then why-?”

“Solidarity for a friend training for a marathon.” she deadpans, feeling part of her soul shrivel and die as she says it. “In hindsight, it was bound to fail eventually. I’m just glad it’s only a couple weeks until said marathon and I don’t have to listen to him give me shit the entire time.”

“That sounds…”

“Crazy. I know.” Pidge snorts. “So… what’s your name?”

“Allura.” The goddess- _Allura_ \- says. “And you?”

“My family calls me Pidge, but my real name is Katie. It’s a long story.”

“Well… we have some time until we get to my apartment?” Allura suggests, and how is Pidge supposed to deny that look on that face while she’s being held in the most intimate way she’s ever been?

-

By the time they’ve made it to the hospital and gotten her X-Rays, Pidge has learned more about Allura and her life than she’d ever thought she might before today. And even though she _did_ break her ankle and needed a cast for the next six to eight weeks, she could hardly find it in herself to care as she finally got a hold of a phone to call Matt and inform him that she would be late for lunch.

Allura doesn’t leave her side the entire time, and very kindly gives her newly bandaged and bruised self a ride home in a modest blue car that Pidge feels like she should recognize, but she’s still got some of the pain meds swirling around her system and everything is pleasantly fuzzy around the edges.

What she _does_ remember is that Allura definitely leaves her number written on Pidge’s cast between the hospital and the ride home; something that doesn’t go unnoticed by Matt an hour later as she gets settled in for a facetime call with Keith.

(She calls Allura that night and says yes, she would love to get coffee sometime.)

_Ideally without any form of exercise involved._


End file.
